


Partners

by BlueNerdBird



Series: Despite the Odds [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:17:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5604673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueNerdBird/pseuds/BlueNerdBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a nasty fight with a Deatchlaw, MacCready has to play doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partners

**Author's Note:**

> I'm no doctor, and therefore have no real ideas on medicine or first-aid, this just kind of seemed like a logical way to proceed??? If you are a doctor or medical person and I did something wrong you can tell me and I'll change it.

With a painful groan, MacCready pulled himself out of a broken dresser. He hadn’t been out for more than a minute at most…

Oh right. They were fighting a deathclaw. The pain in his head reminded him of the force with which he was thrown across the room, but he could move his limbs fine, which was always good.

No, not good. He heard a scream from upstairs and realized “ _Oh shi…oot. the Boss is still fighting the damn thing.”_

Broken pieces of wood scratched his hand as he scrambled for his sniper, ignoring the splinters he gained in the process. Finding the familiar grip, he pulled himself up and ran upstairs where he heard another roar from the beast.

“Boss!” he called out as a sickening, horrifying ripping sound echoed through the empty house, followed by a scream and heavy gunfire. A huge thud shook the house by the time he finally got to the scene, and he almost shrieked at the sight of his boss covered in blood.

“Mac…MacCready.” she said weakly, and in a second he was by her side, pulling out a couple stimpacks to jab in her arm. Bile rose in his throat as the blood continued to pour from a gaping wound in her stomach and on her arms. The damned thing must have raked its claws against her as she held up her arms in defense.

“Stay with me, please I can’t be alone again…” he pleaded as her eyes started to close. In his panic he gave her his last stimpack, hoping that it would be enough. His heart raced and his hands shook. God he couldn’t be on his own again, not after all they’d been through. Going a day without her smooth-talking her way out of trouble, responding to his bad jokes with more bad jokes, laughing so hard her voice is sore the next day, sneezes that sound like a toy for Dogmeat, and the ferocity with which she mows down anyone standing in her way. He had grown too attached, and dammit he had been traveling with someone for too long to go back to being alone. The word itself made hot, desperate tears prick at his eyes.

Her eyes fluttered after the stimpacks had a second to start working. It wasn’t enough to patch up her gaping wounds, but at least the bleeding had slowed down.

“MacCready, I can’t move my arms. They’re scratched to hell, you’re going to have to help patch me up.” she said weakly.

“Sure Boss, just… tell me what I should do. You used to be a doctor right?” MacCready replied, the way she was able to understand the technical talk and science-y stuff they ran into, of course she was a doctor.

“Of sorts, I know first-aid at least.” she said, pain twisting her features. He hated seeing her like this, so MacCready took off his duster, rolled it up, and placed it underneath her head.

“Thank you.” she said. “I need you to get out vodka, bandages, and a needle and thread. I didn’t think we’d be needing antiseptic, but the alcohol will have to do.” she finished as MacCready dug around in her pack.

“Okay, now what?” he asked. Under any other circumstance he would have joked around with her, made a comment about drinking the night away, but his brain was still locked into panic mode.

“Help me out of my clothes. My armor’s torn to hell anyway, best to just get it out of the way.” she said casually. Meanwhile MacCready’s brain had shorted out at the words “Help me out of my clothes.” It’s not like he hadn’t seen her in various states of undress, for purely professional reasons of course. He wasn’t blind either, and he’d be lying if her words hadn’t appeared in his mind in, ahem, different ways. The reality of the situation always kept him grounded, and while he had his own thoughts, he never let them get in the way of his actions.

Until now.

He knew there was already a deep blush spreading across his face. _“It’s for medical reasons. She’s literally bleeding out. Don’t you dare do anything stupid. She’s your boss for Christ’s sake.”_

So with a gulp and reached around and undid the leather clasps of her armor. It fell against the floor quietly. Without the padding in the way, he now saw that the wounds cut deep into her, and he was given another incentive to act quickly.

Underneath the armor was nothing more than a button up plaid shirt that was torn to pieces anyway. Very gingerly, MacCready undid the buttons down the front of her shirt, trying to steady his hands and mind as his hands worked. He grimaced as he peeled the shirt off of her midriff, and held his breath as his hands ghosted over her chest and the way his hands trailed lightly over her arms while removing the sleeves.

Once undressed his eyes went wide. He felt terrible, she was dying and he was trying, with all his willpower, not to stare at the bra she wore, so instead he focused on the wounds on her chest.

“Take a cloth… tear off part of my shirt or something… and douse it in vodka.” she said, unfazed by their current situation. With shaky hands he tore a piece of cloth and doused it with alcohol.

“I’m sorry.” he said, dabbing at her wound. MacCready winced as she bit back a scream, knowing that he was the one hurting her like this. Yes it had been the deathclaw that tore her to shreds, but it seemed like putting her back together hurt just as much, if not more.

In the back of his mind, a small thought interjected that he hadn’t been so worried about anything since Lucy and Duncan. It was as if a lightbulb flicked on when he realized that the woman in front of him had come to mean just as much to him as Lucy and Duncan.

It wasn’t easy, but at last he had cleaned her wounds. They still covered her stomach, and it filled him with anger, she would always carry these scars, leaving a permanent mark from such an ugly beast on otherwise beautiful skin.

“It’s clean.” he said, sitting back on his heels for a second. He almost dry heaved when he saw her blood covering his hands.

“Good. This next part is the hardest, I need you to sew up the worst parts. I can’t make it to the nearest city on bandages alone, I’ll bleed out the second I stand up. Use the thread and needle, it should do the trick.”

“You sure boss? I haven’t done this kinda thing before.” MacCready was a wreck. His face was red because his boss had ordered him to undress her, she was bleeding all over the floor and on his hands, her life was on the line, and _holy shit I care about her_.

As if the whole situation wasn’t giving him enough reason to worry, the realization nearly made him blurt out those exact words. Luckily, he still had half a mind left, so he kept his mouth shut.

“MacCready just get it over with you big baby! The doctor at Diamond City will fix me up later but I need you to focus.” she words were laced with frustration, but they brought him and his thoughts to the present, and he quickly retrieved the needle and thread.

“Okay, I can do this.” he mumbled to himself. To try and steady his hand, he thought of her. He thought of Duncan, and how proud Duncan would be, if he could find the cure. Which she had promised was their next stop after this. Then the deathclaw ruined everything.

His movements were careful, and he occasionally had to clean more blood off the area to continue, and it was a slow process. The stitches were messy and uneven, he cursed himself for it, but for never having done anything beyond stitching clothes, he figured that it could be worse. Gently he patched up the gouge across her middle, the smaller one just above her waist (oh boy, if MacCready thought he was blushing before…), and the ones across her arms.

He could feel her breathing under his fingertips, and he found himself breathing in the same rhythm, it kept him calm, and in a weird sort of way connected them both in the intensity of the moment.

A huge breath he didn’t know he’d been holding was let out as he finished the last stitch.

“You did it?” he heard her ask, and he let out a high-pitched laugh.

“Yeah… God, I did it Jean.” he said, fighting the urge to kiss her as he knew now that she would make it, and he had helped save her. His heart lifted as he saw her give him a kind smile, and he knew that he was screwed if anything ever tried to hurt her again.

“Help me with the bandages, I think I can move a little now, damn that still hurts.” she said, and shifted a bit to prop herself up on her elbows, which were untouched. MacCready tried to avoid looking at the deep cuts on the soft skin on the inside of her arm, and his gaze accidentally slipped to her chest.

 _“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. If she saw that, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look her in the eye again.”_ he thought, and turned to get the bandages.

MacCready knew the blush that had been present on his face for the past twenty minutes or so had not faded, and only continued when his fingers brushed the warm skin of her stomach, hardened through her time in the Commonwealth. A shiver left bumps on his arms as he found himself wrapping the roll around her stomach, his hands hovering just above places he wanted to touch desperately. He hoped it didn’t show too badly on his face.

Once her stomach was bandaged up, she was able to sit up with some help, and MacCready used up the rest of the bandages on her arms, and even had to use part of her torn shirt for the last part of it.

“You know, I think we’ll be okay here for the night.” Jean said.

“I’ll clean the place out real quick, maybe set up a few traps, just to make sure there’s no unexpected company.”

“Before you go, I want to say something. Most people wouldn’t have done what you just did. I know you make a huge fuss about caps and I get that, but you could’ve taken my belongings and run, but you didn’t. What I’m trying to say is thank you, I couldn’t be more relieved that I have a solid gun, and partner, at my back, and I’m glad that it’s you.” the last part sounded quiet coming from her, and _dammit_ his blush was coming back.

“Uh… of course. I guess I like traveling with you, and it’s nice to have a partner I can trust. Besides, I know what it’s like to want to save your son, and I know not a lot of people do, and having to do it on your own is just impossible. So, I’m glad that you see me as a partner too, and I’m glad that deathclaw didn’t tear you to shreds.” he finished, looking anywhere but at her. Emotions were never his forte, especially after Lucy, but they were all he felt around Jean.

“I’m gonna go set up the traps real quick, then we can roast that deathclaw meat, right Jean?” MacCready said, standing up. He decided that after this, ‘Boss’ just wasn’t the right word for her.

“Only if you let me have the leg.” she replied, a smile spreading across her face.

“Alright, I’m more of a white meat kinda guy anyway.” he commented, mirroring her grin, and felt relief wash his entire body. Everything was going to be okay, and he would fight just about anything or anyone to keep it that way.


End file.
